I saw the world through the eyes of the enlightened
The morning after a Paul Simon concert I was woken by a phonecall. At 5pm. As you can imagine, after Paul Simon concerts, hangovers and early morning/evening phonecalls cease to be as annoying as before. It was one of my mates with some excellent news regarding mexican mushrooms.
Let me set the scene. These guys rented out a chalet by the lake for
the summer from a man who'd obviously never heard of inflation. I'm talking
all wood and windows and the lake is right outside the front door. Ten
minutes walk down a winding country road brings you to a hotel but that's
pretty much it for a mile or two.
Nobody even realised it was working until it was brought to our attention that we were playing with an egg. We called it Egg and when it broke from a fatal crack to the ceiling, we tried to pick up its remains and hide them in a Dutch Gold box. Now armed with the knowledge that we were tripping off our tits we left the lake house for a bit of a wander.
The driveway is like a tiny forest and it was pitch dark. Walking under those trees is where it kicked in. The world became like the negatives of a photograph and white moonlight was seeping through the trees and the treetops were like spider webs. By the time we got the the country lane, it became perfectly obvious that all the bushes were made up of colourful letters, mostly Ls and Rs (although Hynes argued that there were definitely some vowel present) and I was smoking cigarettes for dear life. Lights in the distance were amazing pinpricks of wonder and delight as we approached a swimming area before the hotel.
But before we got there we were stopped in our tracks by a mystery substance.
The tarmac of the road beneath our feet had given way to sand and we celebrated
this by rolling around in it for a while trying to establish its identity.
When we got home we watched Gump and Fagan started talking to himself
while making toast like he was a TV chef. When Forrest went to Vietnam,
Fagan donned a combat jacket and became War Chef, a name he just can't
seem to get rid of.
|Information on this site may not be scientifically accurate, rather out of personal experiences. disclaimer|